


“Are you Castiel?”

by gabrielthearchangelspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Human Castiel, Journalist Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Military Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5628013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielthearchangelspn/pseuds/gabrielthearchangelspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Characters are born knowing their soulmates names.</p><p>“Castiel?” A loud and booming voice echoed from behind the counter.<br/>He got up and made his way to the counter. With thanks, he grabbed his coffee from the outstretched hand. When he turned back around he noticed a young blond man staring at him in shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Castiel?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Tumblr user, http://cas-backwards-tie.tumblr.com/ your suggestions were a great help!

Castiel Novak grabbed the handle of the door, holding it open for the several young women that were walking behind him. He softly closed the door to his local Coffee Shop not wanting to draw any attention to himself. The coffee shop was part of his everyday routine considering he was too lazy to actually make coffee himself. So 3 out of 7 days a week he brought his laptop, took a seat and enjoyed his Caramel Macchiato. Occasionally he ended up drinking far too much then he originally intended.

Castiel pulled out his wallet as he approached the barista. The younger girl smiled brightly, the smile was obviously forced, and Castiel couldn’t blame her.

“What can I get you?” She said in a perky voice, which was way higher pitched than he expected.

He pulled out a ten dollar bill and replied softly, “a Caramel Macchiato would be all, thanks.”

“Okay sir, your name, please!” She pulled out a sharpie and a foam cup.

Castiel hated this part because for the life of them they could never spell his name right. Through clenched teeth, he replied slowly, “Cas…ti…el…”

“Okay, it’ll be ready in about 5 minutes, feel free to have a seat,” She said, gesturing towards the various tables.

Castiel nodded and made his way towards the back where there was a small table with one chair. He had sat in that exact seat for the six years, always, with his laptop, and always on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Friday’s. Castiel was a writer for the local newspaper. Not the most exciting job ever, but he enjoyed learning about the little things that happened in the small town of Lebanon, Kansas. He wrote about the local crime which covered both pages 20 and 21 of The Lebanon Journal. It was a lot of work for one person, but he managed it with no problem and normally with several days to spare.

“Castiel?” A loud and booming voice echoed from behind the counter.

He got up and made his way to the counter. With thanks, he grabbed his coffee from the outstretched hand. When he turned back around he noticed a young blond man staring at him in shock. A chill was sent down his spine. Castiel quickly adverted his eyes and practically jogged back to his seat. The young male was still staring at him like he was unsure about what was happening. Castiel tried as hard as he could to stare intensely at his laptop screen trying to avoid the man’s mossy green eyes.

After an awhile he began to wonder if the man was still looking at him, and he looked over his screen. Sure enough, the man was still scrutinizing him along with two other people one was also male, with hair to his shoulders and brown-green eyes. The other was a petite young woman with flashy red hair and a colorful t-shirt. They were staring at him with such curiosity and awe that made Castiel feel like he was an animal in a zoo being observed by children.

Feeling uncomfortable, he chugged down the last of his coffee and began hurrying to shove his laptop and notebook back into his bag.

He slung it over his shoulder and walked out of the building so quick he almost forgot to throw away his trash. He nearly tripped walking down the three steps leading to the sidewalk, as he hurried down the path he started to hear pounding footsteps catching up to him. He suddenly felt the need to start running in fear. He could barely hear anything above the pounding of his heart. He began running as fast as his feet could carry him, which wasn’t very fast because dress shoes were uncomfortable. As he turned the corner he realized the man was far too close to him and would catch him whether he continued to run or not.

He collapsed to the ground and pushed himself up against a brick wall. He put his hands in front of himself cowering and shaking like a small dog. “Please don’t hurt me! I’ll give you anything you want, just please don’t hurt me!” He sobbed, absolutely terrified.

Castiel could sense the tall figure above him crouch down in front of him. The figure reached out and put a hand on Castiel’s thigh. It wasn’t a threatening or rough action, but it did nothing to soothe Castiel’s anxiety. The figure was breathing heavy obviously from the running.

“Are you Castiel?” The figure asked in a small voice.

Castiel looked up whipping away the tears, “what?”

“Are you Castiel?” The figured asked again louder and more confident.

Castiel took a second to really examine him. His face was dour, and it obvious he had seen far too many sad things. His hair was cut in a military fashion and his eyes were an unusual shade of green. His eyes, God, Castiel had never seen anything like them. They were dark like newly fallen pine needles on the ground during fall, but bright like the sun shining on freshly cut grass.

“I, uh, yes…yes, I am.” Castiel replied slowly trying to hide the lump in his throat.

The man scratched the back of his head nervously, “I’m assuming your last name is Novak…and I guess it would be the right thing to do by telling you that my name is Dean.”

Castiel stopped breathing for a second; almost forgetting he was ever on the verge of hyperventilating. He grabbed at the concrete almost as if he was looking for something to hold him up. “Oh my god…oh my god…oh shit! God- I’m sorry!” Castiel looked everywhere but at Dean.

“Why?” Dean asked genuine confusion gracing his face.

Castiel started to breathe quickly again, “you’re so young and so handsome! You probably wanted someone different I’m so sorry. You probably wanted someone much closer to your own age and someone who wasn’t…me!” Castiel was rambling, and Dean could barely keep up with what he was saying.

Dean placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder and gave a small squeeze, “man, slow down and breathe!” It was Dean who was starting to freak out because he didn’t want Castiel’s first impression of him to be that he nearly gives people heart attacks on a daily basis.

Once Castiel had calmed down some, Dean stood up and took a few steps back, “I just wanted you to know…so bye?…” Dean awkwardly started walking away.

Castiel shouted after him, “You’re just going to leave?” The hurt in his voice was obvious.

“I’m sorry Castiel…I just don’t want a relationship…” He answered pushing a rock around with his foot.

“Oh.” The blue-eyed man looked down again his shoulders stiffening. He brought his arms around his legs and pulled them close to his body. The hurt from the rejection was so clear that Dean wanted to run back and hug him.

Dean knew he shouldn’t have listened to Sam and Charlie. But no they kept telling him he had to, at least, stop Castiel from thinking there was ever a chance so he would never have to keep wondering. Dean knew in his mind that leaving the mystery was probably better in this case. He felt such a strong inclination to comfort the strange man, but another inclination to never see him again.


	2. “Thanks, anyway.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The words ate at him and mocked him constantly renewing the wounds of loneliness he hadn’t let himself feel in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to https://cas-backwards-tie.tumblr.com for helping me out.

2 weeks later

It felt like just yesterday that Castiel had been rejected. He still felt the knot in his stomach and nausea burning his throat. He hadn't been into work for several days now, spending most of his time curled up in bed sleeping or working from home. Despite the hurt, he still needed money. He was downing his third cup of instant coffee for the day and laying on the couch when the lock on the door turned.

 

"Hey-o Cassie!" Said Gabriel Novak as he opened the door and closed it behind himself. Gabriel was Castiel's older brother or the middle child of the family. He had sandy brown hair and he had expressive golden eyes which, in the Novak family it was a very common trait to have bright and colorful eyes. Gabriel was a professor at the local college only God knows how someone like Gabriel got a job like that.

 

"Hey," Castiel said adjusting the blanket to cover his feet.

 

Gabriel set down several boxes of pizza on the table, "no "Hello, Gabriel," Geez, there must really be something wrong with you!" Gabriel joked as he plopped down on the couch next to Castiel. The shorter man shook his head, "the tv isn't even on. You're just staring at a blank screen?" Gabriel questioned.

 

Castiel blinked repeatedly. "I didn't- I didn't know it wasn't on...I must have...zoned out..." Castiel replied slowly trying to come up with a lie on the spot.

 

It was a total lie, of course, Castiel knew the tv was off. For the past two weeks, Dean Winchester's beautiful green eyes had burned themselves inside Castiel's head. Every time the man thought about them a large sadness filled his mind. He thought the tv would serve as a nice distraction..but it did not. Castiel hated the way the dismissal had affected him. He didn’t even know Dean, he was just a random stranger who knew his name.

 

The words ate at him and mocked him constantly renewing the wounds of loneliness he hadn’t let himself feel in years.

 

_I’m sorry Castiel…I just don’t want a relationship_

 

The sorry didn’t make the headache and tears that followed any better.

 

Gabriel waved his hands in front of his younger brothers face, “Castiel! Did you hear me?” Gabriel asked while repeatedly snapping his fingers to keep the blue-eyed man's attention.

 

Castiel blinked, “huh, sorry, what’d you say?” Castiel squinted his eyes at Gabriel.

 

Gabriel groaned and leaned further into the couch, “I said, “do you want pizza?” Jesus, Cas, pay attention! Pizza is not something that’s acceptable to miss!” Gabriel snapped at him.

 

Castiel untangled himself from the collection of pillows and blankets that he was buried in, and followed the shorter man to the kitchen. The smell of cheese pizza made his stomach growl. It was then Castiel realized he hadn’t eaten since yesterday at lunch, It was now eight at night.

 

“Dig in bro!” Gabriel indicated towards the pizza.

 

 

Dean had been standing outside Main View Coffee Shop for about ten minutes now trying to will himself to go in. He knew that when it started to heavily snow he had to make a choice. Opening the door, he was unsurprised to find only a few people inside. The warmness felt great compared to the guilt and pain he’d been feeling for the past fourteen days. He spotted a two person table at the back right in front of a window. He took off his leather jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. As he looked out the window he noticed the rapidly falling snow that was dusting the roofs. Nearly a foot of snow was covering the streets which concerned Dean greatly.

 

He made it to the front where a man maybe in his mid-thirties was counting and sorting cups into stacks on the counter. The man looked up when Dean cleared his throat.

 

“‘Ello what can I get you?” The Brit asked.

 

Dean smiled, “I was hoping you could tell me if you have seen a man named Castiel come in here lately?” asked Dean.

 

The man furrowed his eyebrows, and his eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, Castiel. Son, I honestly haven't thought it about till now. I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. I hope the poor lads alright.” The man frowned.

 

“Thanks, anyway,” Dean looked at the man’s name tag, “Benny.”

 

With disappointment heavy on his shoulders, he grabbed his jacket and left. As he left the shop a cold gust of wind and snow whipped him in the face and made his eyes water. It was amazing how fast snow piled up because Dean could barely lift his feet with each step. He zipped his jacket up more, stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, and accepted the fact that a car was not getting anywhere in this weather and he was going to have to walk. He began the trek back to his house.

 

 

“Gabriel where the hell are we going?” Castiel asked impatiently from the passenger side of his brothers car.

 

“Anywhere but that sad ass place you call an apartment.” Gabriel sneered and turned up the car radio.

 

“...I have work to do…” Castiel mumbled to himself.

 

The snow was piling high and it was really starting to worry him. Castiel already wasn’t a fan of cars and add dangerous weather conditions and he was gonna have a shit fit. That was when he noticed a shivering figure walking quickly down the side of the road.

 

“Wait! Gabriel pull over!” Castiel shouted over the music. The golden eyed man flinched before pulling over without complaint, sensing the urgency in Castiel’s voice. Castiel roughly opened the door before running after the figure.

 

Castiel shouted, “Sir we can give you a-” Castiel froze as the man turned around to face him. 

“...Dean?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter was written way faster then I expected. I was thinking of adding in Sabriel but I'm going to let you guys decide.
> 
> if you want to see Sabriel in this story let me know!


	3. "Who is he Castiel?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean opened and closed his mouth twice before actually speaking again. "I don't- I was- uh- looking for you..."

The wind pushed against Castiel roughly, sending shivers all through his body. He deeply regretted waving off Gabriel's attempts to get him to wear a coat. Castiel wasn't completely sure it was fully the cold weather that had him shaking like that. After several seconds of silence, he found he couldn't look into those green eyes anymore without feeling his heart ache. Castiel stared at the ground as Dean walked slowly over to him, acting like Castiel was a deer and any sudden movement would send him running down the street.

"Hi," Dean said awkwardly while nervously moving a foot to push snow and dirt around on the sidewalk in a circular motion.

Castiel glanced back up into those evergreen eyes. He could clearly see the guilt and confusion swimming in the beautiful color of his eyes.

The blue-eyed man didn't know what to say, he kind of wanted to punch him, and he kind of wanted to scream at him, and he really wanted to love him as well. So he stayed silent instead.

Dean opened and closed his mouth twice before actually speaking again. "I don't- I was- uh- looking for you..."

Castiel looked at him in shock. He was still just as lost for words as he was a minute ago. Castiel looked down at the ground before speaking again, "why?" The older man asked.

Dean seemed startled at the question, and he honestly expected Castiel to walk away from him or slap him. Dean didn't have an answer for the older man. He truly did not know.

Maybe it's just guilt. Goddamnit, this was a bad idea. Dean thought.

Castiel just stared at him as he struggled to come up with an answer. "I don't know!" Dean took his hands out of pockets and pulled at his hair in frustration, "I don't know! I'm sorry I just don't know! I just- I just...felt drawn towards you..." The last part was said just loud enough to be heard over the howling wind.

Castiel just stared at him his mouth gaping open like a fish out of the water. The blue-eyed man was breathing heavy wanting to suck in words to say from the howling rushing air around them. He couldn't and he was desperately trying to find the words to say to Dean.

The green eyed man just dropped his head to look at his wet and slush-covered shoes. With a deep sigh, the blond man turned around and continued walking down the path. Castiel wanted to run after him, and he probably should have. What then, though, if he stopped Dean he still didn't have anything to say to him. What kind of reaction would that bring?

When Castiel got back into the car, Gabriel was switching between radio stations and eating chips. The older man perked up when he saw Castiel. "So who was that fine hunk of man?" Gabriel asked while stuffing more potato chips into his mouth.

Castiel didn't even get a chance to reply before Gabriel spoke up again, "oh hells, he's what upset you earlier isn't he?"

Castiel ignored him, busying himself with flipping through radio stations trying to find one that wasn't buzzing and not working due to the blizzard.

Gabriel let out a sarcastic laugh, "so he is! Who is he Castiel?"

Castiel began pressing the buttons harder and faster trying not to snap and break down.

Gabriel looked worried, "Cassie?" He asked lightly.

"Shut up," Castiel said continuing passing through stations.

“Excuse me?”

“I said “shut up”!” He screamed at the golden-eyed man.

Gabriel shrunk back in fear, not really fear but shock that Cas had that loud voice somewhere in him. Gabriel just looked sad now. He turned his gaze back to the road. Gabriel didn't even look at Castiel the whole ride home.

As Dean opened the door to his tiny house he was already half way out of his jacket. After he shrugged off his boots, he plopped himself on the couch and furiously rubbed his hands together trying to get warmth back into his numb and stiff fingers. He was so exhausted emotionally and physically that he was longing for the warm blankets and soft pillows of his wonderful bed.

Yes, what happened with Castiel had hurt him, but he'd convinced himself in the 30 minutes it took to walk home, that he deserved the blank stare and scared eyes Cas had given him. His heart ached with pain at the thought of the many “what if's?” That could have been when the blue eyed man got out of that car. Right now though he couldn't let his thoughts rest on those blue eyes, because he was wet, cold, and very hungry.

He got up and began searching the kitchen for anything to eat. There wasn't much in the small home and it was pretty much all Dean had, besides Sam and Charlie, but that was different. He let out a relieved sigh when he found a can of chili stuffed into the cabinet above the fridge. Chili wasn't ideal for the cold weather but it would do.

He leaned against the counter as he listened to the quiet buzzing of the microwave. He thought about calling Sam and telling him about the events that had happened to him that evening but he decided against it; knowing his brother was probably busy. The microwave let out a shrill beep signaling that the chili was done. When he opened the microwave a breeze of wonderful smell filled the room.

Castiel had been tossing and turning in his bed for several hours now. He roughly flipped over again and glared at his alarm clock that read 3 a.m. He huffed to himself before flipping over again and pulling the covers right up to underneath his chin. Castiel wiggled a little trying to find comfort.

He was feeling a lot of remorse and guilt at the moment. For not running after Dean and for snapping at Gabriel. The silent car ride back to the apartment was dreadfully awful. Gabriel didn't look at him the whole way back not even when they got inside. Castiel felt too awkward to verbally tell Gabriel he could sleep on the couch for the night to avoid driving through the weather, so he just silently placed a pillow and stack of blankets and the couch and went to bed.

A sudden thirst for water made him climb out of bed and walk to the kitchen. He padded over to the cabinet to the get a cup but in the dark, he couldn't see well and ended up knocking a glass off the counter. The cup hit the floor with a dramatic smash and Castiel flinched knowing Gabriel was now probably awake.

“Cas?” Asked a sleepy voice, which was muffled by Gabriel's face being stuffed into a pillow.

“Go back to bed, I just broke a glass, sorry,” Castiel said while flipping on the kitchen light. The black haired man bent down and began picking up the shattered remains of the coffee cup from this morning. He was grateful that the cup was, at least, empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me forever because...I don't even know. 
> 
> I'm struggling to come up with a background story for Dean so if you have suggestions just leave it below or contact me on tumblr valiantcastiel.tumblr.com


	4. "Heya, Sammy!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re Castiel?” The man said in a low voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took so long I was really unmotivated. Not even gonna lie about it. I just really didn't even want to put my fingers to the keyboard.

8 days later

"Robber Mysteriously Disappears During Police Interrogation"

The heading of the newspaper didn't bother Dean, it was the name typed underneath that made him grip the paper so hard it crumpled between his fingers. Castiel Novak was controlling his thoughts. He couldn't even read the damn paper without seeing his name. He couldn't sleep without seeing those hurting blue eyes. He couldn't even drink coffee without it leaving a bitter and sour taste on his tongue.

Dean saw him 2 days ago. The dark haired man had been trudging down the street with a notepad in hand heading towards the groups of cop cars and news vans that surrounded a local convenience store. Dean had laughed to himself; he should have known the guy was a journalist. He wore a trench coat for god's sake, a trench coat meant for rain in the middle of winter. He also had a laptop bag glued to him and he was always sharply dressed. Cas being a journalist certainly made more sense.

It was odd the more Dean thought about Cas the more Cas began to feel like an old friend. He felt close to him, even though the only two things he knew about the man were his name and job.

When on earth did I start calling him "Cas"? Dean thought.

Dean felt like a robot these days. Every day was, work, eat, drink, sleep, and shower. The process was boring. The days have been like that since Dean had returned 4 years ago and he wasn't sure why it was bothering him now.

It was one of those mornings where it was freezing cold, and a thick layer of light gray clouds devoured the blue sky. It looked like it could snow or rain any moment, but it probably would not. It was perfect weather. Dean was looking out the coffee shop window, but he wasn't really seeing anything beyond the glass. He became aware of this when a young women walking down the street looked him in the eyes and gave him an angry glance. He quickly went back to reading the paper (more like staring at Castiel's name and trying to not the tear the paper to shreds).

"Hey, Dean!" Sam Winchester’s voice was shouting to him from the door. The long browned haired, large and intimidating younger brother of Dean had taken a seat across from him, which kind of irritated Dean because he had been resting his feet on that chair. Sam was a Personal Trainer at the gym near the edge of town. Which made sense considering Sam was not a small person by any means, and he was the biggest health nut. 

"Heya, Sammy!" Dean said with a forced smile and happy attitude. Honestly, at that moment, Dean really wanted to be left alone in his self-pity.

"I haven't heard from you in a while," Sam explained.

Dean straightened in his seat and folded the newspaper back together before speaking, "I've been busy."

Sam frowned, "busy doing what Dean? You haven't been to work and no one’s heard from you in like three weeks."

Dean leaned back into the chair and crossed his arms, "I just wanted some time to myself." He explained, it was true for the most part.

"This is about Castiel," Sam stated.

Dean huffed, "I don't even like the dude Sam, I couldn't care less what the hell happens in his life." He growled.

"Woah, okay. This is about Castiel." Sam leaned forward suddenly interested in this mystery soul mate of his older brother.

"No, Sam! Now leave you, bitch!" The words were said in a joking manner.

Sam held his hands up acting offended, "okay, okay! You jerk!" He laughed lightly but made no move to leave.

Dean waited a few seconds before speaking again, "you're still sitting here, Sam." He stated with a deep frown on his face.

"You can't keep shutting people out when you feel threatened," Sam explained, leaning back into the chair.

"I'm not." Dean snapped.

"Dean it's been eight years, you need to move on," Sam said in a softer voice.

Dean slammed his fist on the table. "You watch good people die and suffer, then tell me how you plan to move on!" He yelled.

Dean felt terrible the moment he saw Sam violently flinch away from him. He began to feel even worse when he noticed all eyes were on him.

Dean got up so fast the chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor. He grabbed his coat and basically sprinted out of the coffee shop. Sam sat there in complete shock. 

Dean obviously didn't notice the black-haired figure walking to the door, and obviously, the figure didn't notice him either.

\--------------------------------

It had been a rough week for Castiel, mainly because being holed up in a one-bedroom apartment with a hyperactive religious studies professor, was not exactly his idea calm snow days When Monday rolled around Castiel was out the door as soon as possible.

Crime had been slow in Lebanon lately, good for the world, bad for Castiel's job. He was already struggling as a journalist considering technology was quickly erasing the use for paper. He really hadn't had a good column in several weeks. The most interesting crime he'd heard about in a while was a hit and run. It was nothing like the great mysteries and strange cold cases from several years ago. The business was dying, and if Castiel was completely honest, he was petrified. He was getting older, and there really wasn't much you could do with a degree that was literally in Crime Journalism.

As he entered the coffee shop the wonderful smell of coffee and desserts filled his nose. He loved walking into a coffee shop and feeling the warm air wrap around him. He ordered the usual and found his table in the back corner in front of the window, same as always.

He pulled out his laptop and turned it on. He figured today would be a good day to search and find offers for other jobs. Just as Castiel put his fingers to the keyboard he heard his name come from across the shop. With a deep sigh, he got up and made his way to the counter.

As he made his way to the counter he noticed a tall, browned haired man watching him with wide and confused eyes. It was the same man he had seen Dean with the first day he had met him. He took his coffee from the barista but when he turned around the tall man was now towering over him. So startled he quickly stepped back but the counter was in his path and he nearly fell. 

“You’re Castiel?” The man said in a low voice.

Castiel sighed deeply, “shit.”


	5. "Isn't that bitter?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blue-eyed man was not having it and roughly pushed Dean away from him, "Don't touch me! Don't touch me ever!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long.

Castiel was so tired, he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in four days and his body was aching. His head was pounding much like his heart. He felt his life had completely fallen apart within 5 weeks. 

Castiel sat quietly in his seat staring at the mysterious Dean Winchester that sat across from him. The younger man was staring down into a mug of black coffee with tired and sad eyes. They hadn't spoken a word to each other in the 10 minutes since they arrived. The silence was burning Castiel's ears, it felt suffocating and if someone didn't speak soon he was going to flip out. 

2 more minutes passed, and Castiel couldn't take it anymore.

"Isn't that bitter?" Castiel asked just loud enough for Dean to hear him.

Dean's head snapped up so quick, Cas thought he heard a crack. The blond man hesitated and frowned as he spoke, "I guess?" 

Dean had no idea what bitter even tasted like. Maybe the coffee was bitter, but it didn't even really matter to Dean anyway because he was just grateful that coffee even existed. 

Looking at Castiel properly for the first time since he got into the shop he noticed how tired the older man looked. The blue-eyed man had dark circles under his eyes, his face was red, and it looked like only the back of his head was combed. He had so many questions about him but he couldn't bring himself to ask or really speak to him at all. 

Castiel got talkative when he was uncomfortable and nervous which is why he repeatedly tried to start a conversation with Dean. The only thing the blond man seemed to say was "yes" and "no". After awhile Castiel gave up and he could feel the heaviness of hurt expanding low in his stomach and racing into his lungs. He knew this was a bad idea, why did he ever listen to Sam Winchester? He just couldn't say no to those big sad eyes of the younger Winchester. He wanted to make it work with Dean but Dean seemed so far away and uncaring. 

Castiel's small headache was now feeling like a full on migraine. He put his head in his hands and leaned on the table trying to relieve the pressure in his skull. His body burned, maybe from the anxiety of sitting with Dean, maybe because he had just lost his job two days ago, or maybe his mind was finally catching up to the state of his body. He needed fresh air, there were too many different smells in the shop. 

Dean looked up for the first time in fifteen minutes and grew slightly concerned when he noticed how pale Cas was, and how he was folding in on himself, as if in pain. Dean drew in a sharp breath, "are you okay?" He asked gently. 

Castiel looked up quickly and winced, "yes- I uh- I um- I need to leave, I am sorry!" Castiel got up from his seat and grabbed blindly for his jacket and missed about three times before he got it in his grasp. He took what seemed like a mile worth of steps (which was really like ten) before he swayed on his feet and gripped a chair to stop himself from face planting into the hardwood floor. He stood there trying to catch his breath for a few seconds.

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder. 

"Cas?" Dean asked while trying to keep Castiel from slipping to the floor.

The blue-eyed man was not having it and roughly pushed Dean away from him, "Don't touch me! Don't touch me ever!"

Dean took a step back, "Cas, you're sick or something let me, at least, drive you-" 

"No." The haziness in Castiel's mind was growing and his thoughts were jumbled beyond a headache and possible fever.

Dean grabbed Castiel by both shoulders and pulled him up, holding him so that they were face to face. “Please, Cas?” Dean whined, desperate to keep the blue-eyed man safe.

Castiel sagged and nodded limply. Castiel was so out of it he wasn't even aware when Dean lifted him bridal style and carried him out to the black Impala. 

\--------------------

Dean let out a long sigh as he pulled the blanket from the guest room up over Castiel. He gently tucked in the edges around him, taking care not to wake him. The older man was completely still in his sleep. Which Dean was grateful for because he had spent all day taking care of the blue-eyed man. Of course, Dean didn't mind because Cas being around made the house seem less bland and it certainly made Dean feel a lot lighter.

The black-haired man looked so much more peaceful in his sleep, all the worry lines smoothed out and he seemed almost several years younger. He didn't move of snore in his sleep which made Dean laugh because it seemed to fit Castiel’s personality so well.

Dean knew he shouldn't have, but he was so tired and the steps to his own bedroom seemed like a trek across a desert. He quietly walked around the edge of the bed and lifted the covers. With swift movements, he was lying right beside Castiel. Dean honestly could not explain why lying in that bed felt like the only correct thing in his life. Dean turned and wrapped his arms around Castiel. He put one arm under Cas’s head and one arm over his waist. Dean flinched when the older man shifted closer to Dean. The young man fell asleep with a content smile and knew in that night was going to be the best sleep he'd ever gotten. 

\--------------------

6 days prior __

_"Shit." The black haired man cursed to himself quietly, so quiet only him and Sam heard what Castiel said._

_"Excuse me?" Sam asked._

_When the black-haired man turned around he was faced with the young man who had been sitting with Dean the first day he had met him. The young man was tall and intimidating it made Cas shiver. Castiel could feel his breathing quickening and pulse racing. He needed air, he needed to get away from this man as fast as possible._

_Sam was startled when the older man began to choke on air. He stepped forward to comfort Castiel, but the shorter man stepped backward. Sam desperately searched his mind for any knowledge he had on this._

_"I'm so sorry! Please, I didn't mean to freak you out. My names Sam Winchester, you've met my brother!" Sam held out his hands in surrender. Castiel felt his tight chest loosen when he looked into Sam's hazel puppy eyes, the tall man was not a threat._

_The barista tapped Castiel on the shoulder, "Sir, is this man bothering you?" She asked in a gentle tone._

_The blue-eyed man frantically shook his head. "H-hello, Sir, can I help you?"_

_Sam laughed, "no, I think you might be the one in need of some help." The younger Winchester smirked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignore the other note at the bottom of this.
> 
> Let me know if you liked it, and suggestions are welcome!


	6. "Why do you even care, Dean?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel quickly walked over towards the table to sit. "Dean, what happened? Why am I here?" 
> 
> Dean turned off the stove and put down the fork he was using to flip bacon. "You were sick, and nearly passed out inside the coffee shop, you had a fever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long feel free to visit me on tumblr.
> 
> https://valiantcastiel.tumblr.com

As Castiel awoke he was surrounded by warmth and soft blankets. He laid there content and comfortable until he became aware of the wonderful smell of food. He stretched his arms over his head before yawning and, opening his eyes. He was staring up at a ceiling that was painted a light tan. His eyes widened in the realization that he was not in his own bed. He quickly through his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He glanced around the room.

The room was simple, just a bed, dresser, chair, and two-night stands. The room was much like Castiel's but darker and there was less sunlight that beamed from behind the curtains. 

The smell of food drew him towards the door. The door opened with a sharp click. With careful feet and deep long breaths he made his way silently down the hall. The kitchen was filled with the crackling of bacon and the smell of syrup. 

"You hungry?" Dean asked Cas.

Castiel's head snapped towards Dean's face that held an expression of worry and fear, "I- uh- I think I am?" Castiel replied not fully sure what the question was. Castiel took several more nervous steps into the kitchen.

"You can sit down, you know," Dean said gesturing towards the small round table. 

Castiel quickly walked over towards the table to sit. "Dean, what happened? Why am I here?" 

Dean turned off the stove and put down the fork he was using to flip bacon. "You were sick, and nearly passed out inside the coffee shop, you had a fever."

"Oh." 

Castiel filled the awkward silence by tapping his fingernails against the dark wood of the round table. The kitchen was just as empty as the bedroom, brown walls, and no personal photos.

"Cas- could you could you not do that?" Dean asked in an annoyed voice as he turned off the stove.

Castiel tilted his head, "do what?"

Dean turned around and groaned under his breath, "the tapping that's annoying as shit!" He stated with a sigh.

Castiel tore his hand away from the table as if he had been burned by it. 

"Why am I here, Dean?" Castiel said the blond man’s name like it was poison on his tongue. 

Deans eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? You passed out so I took you to my house and put you to bed."

Castiel shook his head, "that's not what I mean, why didn't you take me to a hospital or home?" He asked with an irritated edge to his gruff voice.

Dean turned back around and turned off the stove. He removed the pans from the stove, before grabbing two plates from the cabinet. "First of all, I have no idea where you live, and second you weren't hurt, and you only had a low fever," Dean explained as he placed a full plate of food in front of Castiel, before setting down on his own. 

The blue-eyed man pushed the plate of food away from him, “Why do you even care, Dean? You said you didn’t want anything to do with me, so why am I still here!” Castiel’s voice raised and it shook with anger. 

Dean looked down in shame, “I don’t know.”

Castiel lifted an eyebrow, “you don’t know? You don’t know why you brought me into your house?”

“It was Sam, okay?”

“Excuse me?”

“I made a promise with Sam that I would at least get to know you.” The silence that followed was frustrating and unbearable, “whatever, I’m sorry, I'll drive you to work or whatever.”

Cas looked at Dean with wide eyes, “I can walk there…”

“No, it’s fine I was the one who dragged you all the way over here.” Dean insisted. 

Castiel began tapping his fingers against the table again, “Dean I-I don’t have a job.”

“What?”

“I got laid off, the internet has taken over the news and there’s really no need for the newspaper anymore,” Castiel explained.

Dean’s eyes widened, “Let me help.”

Castiel’s eyes furrowed, “what?” 

“My uncle, well he’s not my uncle, but that’s another story, he’s looking for someone to help with finances and stuff,” Dean explained.

“Dean, I’m terrible at math, why do you think I’m a journalist,” Cas explained.

“You need a job though right?” 

“I mean, yeah…I guess I’ll think about it.” 

 

\----------------------

It was late by the time Castiel made it home. As he opened the door he was greeted with almost complete darkness, and the streetlights bleeding from around the edges of the curtains. As he flipped on the light he was suddenly aware of how messy he’d let his apartment get. The sink was filled with dishes, the counters covered in mail and unpaid bills, and there were various items of clothing thrown around the living room, along with about fifteen empty coffee cups on the coffee table. 

He was too frustrated and conflicted to care, so he threw the mail on the counter, and threw his coat over the back of the couch before making his way towards his bedroom. He loosened his tie and tossed it carelessly on the dresser along with his shirt and pants. He barely remembered to turn off the light before laying his mess of black hair down upon the worn pillow. 

He thought about Dean’s offer and the mysterious Bobby. He really needed the job but he didn’t think accounting really fit him. He was a journalist and that’s all he had ever wanted to do, besides a few years when he was younger and wanted to be a Vet. 

He supposed he could take the job while he looked around for other opportunities. The only other with taking the job was that he would have to work around Dean, considering Dean was one of three mechanics that worked as Singer Salvage. Eventually, the thoughts became too much and he drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Dean.

\---------------------

Dean woke up in a puddle of sweat, he shot up in bed and yanked the cord to the lamp. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found nothing unordinary with the room. He glanced at the door to ensure that it was locked. Like every night he dreamed about the horrors of war and the sadness that surrounded it. He had nightmares about the friends he had lost, and about the many times he had a gun pointed straight at the heart. 

He was promised that over time the nightmares would subside, and the memories wouldn’t hurt so much but Dean was starting to doubt whoever said that to him. Dean laid his head back on the pillow and stared at the white ceiling praying that it would never fall. 

Dean did not go back to sleep, nor did he turn off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave input or a comment because I'm struggling with this and I'm honestly making up the plot as i write. I have no plan.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fear, paranoia.”

Castiel sat in awkward silence as his therapist stared at him. He twisted a loose string from the couch around his finger, trying to avoid conversation. Her office was cold containing only a glass desk, books and, various degrees and, documents hanging on the walls. Castiel didn't quite understand why people tended to hang those things for everyone to see. Castiel was annoyed; they'd been sitting in silence for the entire hour. Cas suspected Pamela wanted him to break the silence this time.

“Castiel, have you been taking your medication?” Dr. Pamela Barnes asked. The young woman leaned forward, resting her clipboard on her thighs.

The blue-eyed man’s head shot up. “They don't work.” He explained, clenching the string in his fist.

“You have to give it time, this isn’t something you can wait out.” She stated in a soft voice.

Cas shook his head and looked down at his feet. “I still feel it.” He stated bluntly.

“Feel what?” Dr. Barnes asked.

“Fear, paranoia.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Fear of what?”

“That I'm not good enough, and I'm not worth the time.”

Dr. Barnes frowned and jotted something on her clipboard. “You can’t judge yourself worth by the words of others, Castiel.”

“Yeah, well I can’t exactly help it..” 

A loud and repetitive beeping came from the watch worn around Pamela's arm. She turned it off before standing up.

“Our session is over.”

 

"It doesn't really seem like you have any job experience in accounting," Bobby stated bluntly.

Castiel cleared his throat, "I did minor in mathematics and I spent two years as an intern at an accounting firm."

Bobby glanced down at the resume in front of him and ran his rough and worn hands over the various words and facts. He looked back up, and squinted his eyes, so very little of his hazel eyes were seen. "I just have a few more questions."

"Okay," Castiel replied as he adjusted body so he was sitting straighter.

"Why should we hire you?"

Castiel tilted his head in confusion before leaning forward slightly over Bobby's desk. "I'm a fairly young, very educated person, with a lot of knowledge on managing money."

Bobby nodded in approval, "greatest strength?"

"I'm a quick learner and a good problem solver."

Bobby again nodded once in approval. "Greatest weakness?"

"I would say I'm fairly well balanced, but if I had to say, I'm not all that good with dealing with people one on one."

"Okay, you're 32 years old, and you're from Pontiac, Illinois?"

"Correct."

Bobby closed the folder with the resume in it and handed in back to Castiel, "that's it."

Castiel's eyes went wide and he rushed to get up, and nearly fell in the process. He quickly shook Bobby's hand. "Thank you, Mr. Singer I imagine I will receive a call from you in a few days?"

Bobby let out a deep laugh, "no, son, you got the job." He explained.

"Oh, when do I come in?" Castiel asked as he started walking towards the door.

"You can start tomorrow, or Monday next week."

He shook the older man's hand before rushing out of the office and into the garage. Castiel was halfway to his car before he realized he was on the ground, and his entire body hurt.

"Cas?" The voice sounded familiar.

"Cas, hey are you alright? Can you hear me?" Suddenly cold hands were on his head running through his hair.

He moved slowly turning himself so he was on his side. He feared opening his eyes due to the fact his entire head was spinning. He sat up slowly and cracked open his eyes.

He heard Dean huff a laugh, "You gotta pay more attention Cas, you tripped over me and nearly lost your eye on the buffer."

Castiel stood and began brushing dirt and dust off his suit, and straightened the collar of his trench coat.

"I suppose I got a little antsy and wasn't looking," Castiel explained trying to fend off the heat that he was starting to feel on his face.  
Dean smirked and put a hand on the blue-eyed man’s shoulder, the shorter man flinched at the contact and Dean quickly removed his hand as if he had been burned.  
“Sorry,” Dean said quickly as he looked down at the wrench still in his hand.  
“It’s fine,” Cas replied as he glanced around the room trying to look anywhere but at Dean. The older man took an awkward step towards the door, “I should- should go now…” as he scampered through the door.

Castiel tapped his fingers against the paper coffee in no particular pattern. The snow from blizzard seemed to finally be melting as the dead brown grass was beginning to peek through the slush. He watched families walk up and down Main Street wearing heavy coats, gloves, and hats. He saw a young child running down the street with what Cas assumed was the child’s parents running after her. The parents were laughing as the father lifted her off the ground and spun her around over his head. The little girl laughed and giggled as she was set down.

The scene made Castiel smile to himself as he took a long drink of his nearly cold coffee. Castiel let out a loud dramatic sigh; no matter how hard he tried he could not find it in himself to hate Dean Winchester. He roughly set down his coffee cup, and looked down at his watch seeing that it was twenty to nine, he needed to get moving soon; his job at Singer Salvage started soon. He drank the rest of his coffee quickly before rushing out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you'd like me to continue cause continuing this right now is a maybe to me.


End file.
